Hump day blues

I feel like I've lost all creativity with words. I used to be reasonably talented at stringing together a sentences that at least made me feel uplifted. But for a few years now i feel like there is part of me that was suffocated a long time ago by term papers and more recently memos. I know that I am not a unique snowflake, and that every feeling I have felt is only a repeat of a feeling that hes been lived out by others before. But where do I draw the line at thinking like this? Has this whole life been lived by someone else? Has it been repeated so many times that the soul that continues to inhabit it has lost all lust for the creative? I fear that this "normal life" is not what I was meant for; and that being forced to live it, whether because of social stigma or monetary morose, will eventually kill me. It is only in creating something remotely beautiful do i feel alive. If only I could convince myself that I send out the most amazing/breathtaking/elegant office memos that I could possibly survive this worn out life. Unfortunately, I am a terrible liar.